In a heartbeat
by LadyTrish
Summary: Her body reacted in ways she couldn’t understand, yet she was sure that what emotions..." Set during episode 7x15, Jack Knife. Enjoy : Rated T, because I am paranoid and this time with good reason :


Dear all,

here is a quick one shot which has been haunting my brain for a couple of days now. Because my computer decided to take an extended vacation, I must admit I have lagged behind with watching NCIS. Two days ago I saw Jack Knife and I loved it. Ziva's expression, when the truck came towards Damon puzzled me and I decided to write this little thing. Sort of my little interpretation of what went inside of Ziva's mind at that point but also how Tony reacted to this.

Enjoy, and make me happy by reviewing. :))

xoxo LT

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In a heartbeat.**

The sky was velvet black, a shroud of pure perfection with no stars in sight and no one to give an answer to questions and doubts that two people were having while locked up in a small compartment. She knew that the decision was all hers, and if she would tell him to flee, he would; he would crawl away from the world and let her face everything alone. Not because he was a coward, but because it was his way of controlling the wreck that was his life. It always had been up to her to make the hard decision, to guide those who had doubt and fear deeply rooted in their blood, but this time she wished he would not ask the question she had been anticipating for hours . Next to her the man pondered if he should obey an order that he knew was wrong, yet he had to, because this was a mission that he could not mess up, because the woman next to him could not be disappointed by the catastrophe he had become since the last time they had seen each other. His mind was racing, trying to decide what to do, but his lips took a life of their own and asked the question he did not want to word. "What do we do?"

She did not hesitate, although a part of her screamed in frustration, because he could not be the man she wanted him to be. "We stop the truck." He tried to act brave, like this had been his plan all along as well and she had been asked only because he was trying to be polite, but she knew better, so she refused to look at him, assure him that things would turn out in their favor. The truck moved slowly and she was counting down the seconds until the impact that was surely to come, and somehow in did not scare her. When the vehicle came to a stop, they both climbed out of the cabin, eyes not meeting, no words spoken, because one of them was ashamed and the other one was indifferent. Once outside she could feel the wind blowing softly, bringing the aroma of the coming spring, making her hair twirl and form a halo around her head. She could feel him next to her, his body radiating heat, and from the corner of her eye she could see him clench his fists, tensing in anticipation. Her body reacted in ways she couldn't understand, yet she was sure that what emotions Damon was experiencing at the moment were very different from hers.

She could smell his fear, the sweat trickling down between his should blades, the way his breath came in shot gasps. Yes, he was very scared, because he knew that the likelihood of that truck stopping before it turned them into a pile of unrecognizable mush was very small. The ground beneath her feet trembled, and the horn rang franticly, like a wild bull ushering them to flee from its destructive path, yet she felt her feet rooted to the ground, while the truck coming towards them was breaking and gaining speed at the same time. Her nostrils flailed, while the tension in the air intoxicated her, making her tilt her head slight and part her lips, her body trembling in expectancy, so she did the only thing that her instinct told her to do; she closed her eyes briefly and imagine what it would be like if everything would be over. She could feel his eyes dashing towards her face, and she knew that the smile that graced her thin lips scared him, because at that moment Ziva David, NCIS agent and former Mossad assassin wished that the truck would not stop in time and would crush her, taking her out of her misery. It would only take a second and then it would be all over, the nightmares would vanish for ever, the struggle to regain Gibbs' trust would be over and the effort of rebuilding her shattered friendship with Tony would be all but forgotten. She knew that Somalia would never come back to haunt her, that Saleem would not invade her mind and that she would stop hearing the screams of the people she had killed during her time with Mossad. Gone would be the guilt of having killed Ari to save Gibbs' life, gone would be the pain of having lost Tali and gone would be the anger that she felt every time she remembered Michael or her father. There would be only silence and darkness, delightful darkness that would heal the wounds that no medication, doctor or time could and would heal.

When her eyes opened, she could see the truck turning sideways, coming closer and closer, just a few hundred meters more and then everything would be over, there would be only silence, and she realized that she was holding her breath. A small voice inside of her head was screaming with joy, while another small voice inside of her chest, maybe her heart, if she still possessed one, was crying because she was leaving something behind. Her eyes shone, her mind prayed, something she hadn't done in a very long time. She wanted to be at peace when she would meet her maker, when she would ask him questions that were burning inside of her.

But the truck did stop, and the dream vanished as quickly as it came, while she released the breath she was holding and the light of hope in her eyes dimed down. Her chance of leaving this world that made her sick was a mere illusion and she was pulled back into reality, acting up, keeping up with the charade. From that point on, she locked her hopes back into her heart and she switched back to autopilot, to the professional she was. The next hours were a blur, full of forensics, interrogations, paper work, advice, see you later and teasing but nothing registered in her mind or her heart. The next thing she knew she was at home, sitting on the couch and staring at her television set, while she felt frustration aching in her chest and burning behind her eyes. She did not hear the knock on her door, or when her lock had been picked, she did not even register when the couch shifted under her, or when a hand brushed her hair from her face.

She snapped out of her trance when she heard the voice.

"Worth told me what happened back then." His hand stroking her palms, while avoiding looking at her, waiting for her to replay. Her answer never came so he trailed away.

"I heard his story, but now I want to hear yours."

"There is nothing to say Tony." She responded, her body not moving.

Silence stretched again between them, while his mind was trying to put the pieces together, to formulate the next question in such a way that she wouldn't completely lock herself away, leaving him with more questions, fears and doubts.

"He came by the cubicles, while you were in interrogation with Gibbs. Told me that he thinks there is something wrong with you. Thinks you're depressed or something along those lines, because he saw you closing your eyes and enjoying the close proximity of the speeding truck. From what he said I came to the conclusion that you were, how should I put it, anticipating and maybe hoping to die." He said, a shiver running down his spine. Thinking of Ziva wanting to die pained and scared him.

Yet she did not answer nor move from her position, but he could see that she was alert, and probably thinking of a reply. Slowly she turned her body towards him, studying him.

"What do you expect of me Tony? You know the answer, so there is no point in you asking me this." She whispered her eyes boring into his.

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself.

"I know that you have been through a lot, but life is beautiful, as cliché it might sound and you need to enjoy it." He trailed away.

"Really, Tony? Is it beautiful when I wake up during the night screaming? Is it beautiful when I feel the sand in my mouth, or the burning of the cigarette on my skin? Is life beautiful when I feel like I can't breathe, for a split second, when somebody puts a hand on my shoulder? Tell me Tony, how am I supposed to enjoy the present, life in general, when I am haunted by the past?" she asked, her tone harsher then intended.

He didn't know what to tell her, or how to make her see that she needed to live, because there are so many how depended on her alive, hell he needed her more than anybody else to be alive. He felt the pang of anger, rising slowly and he wanted to shack the death wish out of her

"Then, I would suggest to put a bullet though your brain Ziva, if it is that unbearable to live." He blurred out, taking his gun out of its holster and extending it to her.

She narrowed her eyes, studying his determined features, her eyes shifting then towards his gun, her hand twitching to take it from him.

He could feel his pulse thudding in his ears, and he prayed that she wouldn't take his gun and blow her brains in front of him.

Slowly her hand reached towards his gun, caressing it, mesmerized by it; she was actually considering if she should take his offer, but as quickly as the fire arm was offered to her, so did it disappear back into his holster.

"You hesitated! Meaning you don't want to die. I know I am being harsh to you, but get over yourself because there are reasons to live, there are people to live for." He trailed away in the same harsh tone.

Her eyes snapped back to his face, studying his clenched jaw and the dead earnest expression.

He sighted when she did not speak, and scooted closer to her, taking her hands in his, playing with her fingers, only to finally lace them with hers.

"If I could I would give you the world, the moon and the stars just so you could find the will to leave and forget everything, to leave it all behind. Ziva, we need you more then you can imagine. Abby can't bear lose another friend; Ducky can't have another member of his team on his autopsy table. McGee can't lose the last of his innocence, by seeing you die, and Gibbs can't lose another daughter. They all need you like air, and I told you once that I can't live without you." He spoke, his voice a mere whisper.

"You said that, yet you have been denying me the only thing that I have wanted and needed for years Tony." He could barely hear her, and he felt distress because she was hiding her face behind the cascading curtain of her hair.

"What do you need Ziva? Tell me, and I'll give it you." He asked.

They were inches apart, and he could feel her steady heart beat the most beautiful sound in the world, second to her laughter, he could smell her lovely perfume, a mixture of honey, jasmine and some other exotic spices. Her silent hesitation was becoming unbearable and he had to restrain himself from bringing his palm up to her check and turning her towards him, so could see her eyes.

His heart skipped a beat when she finally met his eyes and spoke: "You."


End file.
